


Three years is a Long time.

by Neko_Airie



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Episode 8, Kept Boi, M/M, Multi, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 01:13:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1326214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neko_Airie/pseuds/Neko_Airie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When hard times fall on d'Artangan, he had to leave his three friends no matter his feelings towards each of them. With no money, no prospects and no commission he will do what he can to survive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was dreamed up at 2 am and is certainly a bit dark, will lighten up though. Please give constructive critisims

Athos watched as d’Artangan collapsed against the wall of the gate arch, curling in on himself. He made to move to his secret love but turned away when his name was called by his captain. Treville stood outside his office on the wooden balcony, once he had Athos attention he called him to his office. Casting a worried look to where d’Artangan had been to find him gone he moved to follow Treville a feeling of worry deep in the pit of his stomach. He motioned to Aramis to find and follow their wayward friend. Nodding Aramis left the barracks in search of the boy. 

Treville was waiting in his office when Athos entered, the unusually grave expression on his face spoke volumes. Athos stood before his captain and waited for the man to speak. “First, I can’t with good judgment let him compete in the contest but I doubt he could raise the money so I have allowed it, but I fear that he shall not be here much longer. The list of charges against Labarge have come through, he burnt d’Artangans farm to the ground. The boy has no source of income, he no longer has anything.” He offered the list to Athos who was stood stock still, eventually he took the paper and passed a look over it and handed it back. “Athos, help the boy if you can. As you say he has promise.” Athos nodded and left the office his mind reeling. d’Artangan had said a couple of nights ago at the tavern that his rent was late for two months, this was sure to cause even more problems but what would the boy do. 

Porthos was waiting in the courtyard when he decent the stairs, Athos made his way to him and stood next to the tall man. “What was all that about?” he asked that same worry evident in his voice. Athos began to walk and explain as they headed towards d’Artangans abode in hope that he may have made his way back there. “d’Artangans farm was destroyed by Labarge. He is penniless and still has no commission to the musketeers. I am to do the best I can for him but there is little that I can do.” They wandered and eventually found Aramis sat on the doorstep of Constance house. Standing and stretching when he saw his friends he walked to them. “Well?” He was given the same explanation as Porthos. Aramis cast a sad look to the house before speaking. “He came here, went inside and is refusing any visitors.” Athos nodded, if there was one thing that d’Artangan was it was private. “Well we wait, he must leave some time. Right?” Porthos said resolutely sitting down.

Apparently not, he didn’t leave for nearly two days. Their was always one of three at the house, asking occasionally asking if he would see them but they slowly lost all hope of that. It was late evening on the second day when he did emerge, sadness and worry etched into his features. Athos immediately made his way towards the boy who hadn’t noticed them. He stopped and turned to them. “Oh, Um… I’m going to see the Cardinal, about recompense. Surely I can get something.” He almost seemed to be trying to trick himself into believing it. “I will be back soon.” He walked off leaving them in their place on the three wooden seats that Constance had brought out halfway through their watch. The three seeing that he clearly wanted to be alone to do this slipped back in their seats and then into silence watching Paris pass by.

It wasn’t until late evening that he returned to the house, a open bottle of wine in one hand and a dagger in the other. He looked disheveled and dangerous in his inebriated state. Porthos decided that he was the best be should the boy lash out, as he drew closer he was gratified to see that the blade was clean. Catching sight of Porthos d’Artangan stopped, levelling him with a drunken look. “Hey, how about you give that blade to me. I could use the practice.” Porthos spoke slow and calmly , d’Artangan looked at the blade almost surprised. “Yeah…Um…Here” he made to hand the blade over but dropped it at the last moment. Porthos quickly picked it up and put it safely in his own belt. Athos and Aramis now moved forward, Athos gently slipped the bottle out of his hand to find that is was empty for only a few dregs at the bottom. Raising an eyebrow he cast it aside and moved to support the boy. “Come on lets get you inside and into bed.” He and Aramis each took a side and lead the boy to his bed. On the way he explained drunkenly what the Cardinal had said before falling face first on the bed and soon unconscious .

It didn’t feel right leaving next day but the contest was starting and there was more at stake than the pride of the musketeers. Arriving in the courtyard Treville stood waiting, he questioned them with a look. Athos shook his head, after hearing that the Cardinal was not likely to give any recompense d’Artangan had truly caved. Porthos’ Alice came to see him giving him that thirty livre for the entrance fee and soon the competition began and although they would not be proud to say it d’Artangan slipped to the back of their minds. 

d’Artangan wasn’t in a better frame of mind but he seemed less drunk when they came to see him in the evening. He was sat wit a glass of wine at the dinning table of Constance house. The three sat beside him around the table and spoke of the humiliation that other contestants suffered at the hands of Porthos in the brawling. Slowly they got drunker until Aramis declared quits and pushed them all to bed. It continued much the the same the next night but the subject was the pointlessness at the action of trying to out shoot Aramis. 

The next morning they waited outside the ring of the kings contest when d’Artangan told them the new that he had found a job with bed and board. Athos clapped him on the back confused by the looked of melancholy on the boys face. “What it is then? Why look so down?” The rest of the group looked excited to hear this. “I will be doing manual labour at an estate.” He spoke wit determined happiness, Aramis pressed him also about the sad look. “It it on and estate three days ride from Paris.” He finished. The other three face fell and they gained the same look a him, Athos deeply. “Ah, when do you leave?” d’Artangan shuffled his feet and muttered the answer. “When?” Athos questioned again. “After the end of these proceeding I leave when my new…master leaves a midday today. He is here on business.” They fell silent to this revelation. 

Once the contest started they as a group became engrossed in this and watched at Treville was injured and Athos was put forward as the new champion killing Labarge. It seemed to en far to quickly for the group. They stood sadly despite the victory at the side of the field quiet. “You will write.” Athos demanded not willing to admit that with new duties and begin so far away it was just not practical. “And we will visit” Aramis stated with certainty that was a lie, they would be no time. Porthos ever the practical man just drew him into a crushing hug. “Gonna miss pounding you into the ground on a monday morning.” d’Artangan nodded in agreement not trusting his mouth or heart to yell what he truly felt for each of the group, it would be to painful. Once each of them drew away from a hug he turned from them and walked quickly away not wanting them to see the tears in his eyes. This was unfair, he was loosing everything.

Treville, arm now in a sling came over to the group. “Take a few days, Get drunk. Even I am sad to see him go”. Athos fully intended to do just that. He watched the retreating form. That was the last time they saw Charles d’Artangan for three years.


	2. Seeing him again, but is it really him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When they see him again, what has happened to him in the last three years.

Athos, Porthos and Aramis rode sedately towards a large country estate deep in the french countryside. The early morning light filtered through the thick trees and cast dapple green light on the floor of the forest through which they travelled. They had travelled through many such forests in France over the last three years, Athos had ensured that they were given every mission possible that involved a large country estate. Any chance that they might see their missing fourth again. They had felt his presence deeply missing over the last three years. 

They were to ensure that the current lord of the manor, a dear friend of the current king and his deceased father. The three day ride was not particularly dangerous but one could never be to careful and so there musketeers were sent as an escort. “I have escort missions.” Porthos muttered and kicked his horse a little fast to draw side by side with Athos. “Who exactly are we going to be escorting?” Porthos had a habit of letting his mind wander when the finite details of a mission came up, tending to enjoy the excitement of the surprise. Athos looked at him with a solitary raised eyebrow, his face bore a deep sadness that had resided their since d’Artangan had left. “ The Lord Aguillon. Current lord by the first name of Benoit and his ward. We are to arrive and wait until the lord is ready to travel and then escort him to Paris, then back again at the end of his visit.” Porthos huffed and dropped back to Aramis again. “Nothing interesting then.” Aramis snorted in laughter at this. 

Soon the trees receded back and the large estate house emerged into view. The house was large and imposing with intricate carved stones and glittering glass. Dismounting from their horses they were quickly ambushed by stable hands that took hold of their reigns and lead them away to water and grain. Athos lead the group to the grand oak doors the fronted the house and pulled on the bell cord dangling by the door. Soon enough the door was opened and they were welcomed into an opulent entrance hall. Removing their hats they waited for their host to make an appearance and declare what their schedule was for their journey. Aramis and Porthos were muttering under their breath about the sheer gleaming wealth in the hall. Soon there was the sound of foot steps, the light clipping of heels and soft sound of voices. A middle aged man rounded the corner he stood the same height as Aramis with a broad chest and flat face, not particularly good looking by well enough that one could look. He was speaking with a female, a tutor by the way she was dressed. “He will not be requiring your tutelage any further, the King had kindly agreed that he will be given a education from the one of his own tutors.” The woman bowed and left. Aramis raised an eyebrow and smirked to Athos. “Privileged little shit then.” He whispered under his breath. Athos elbowed him in the ribs hard. “Ooommff” Aramis clutched his ribs and glared accusingly at him, he made to make some other comment by was unable when Benoit Aguillon came with in hearing range of the three.  
“Ahh, The Kings Musketeers. I did tell his majesty that this was uncalled for but he insisted. Benoit Aguillion.” He introduced himself and with a voice that gave not hint of humility or humbleness . “Athos, this is Porthos and Aramis.” He introduced each one and bowed, it was clear that this was a man the knew he had friends in high places.   
“Well, We have to wait for Charles to arrive back from his morning ride, So might I suggest a glass of wine and some food.” Athos nodded, wine was a good idea. Maybe he could enquire after d’Artangan. 

They had been sat taking wine and some fresh fruit, (A rarity even for a musketeer.) when Athos decided that he was going to enquire if d’Artangan had found his employment here. “Lord Aguillon, Might I enquire if you have a worker by the name of d’Artangan? He was a friend of mine and I would dearly like to see again.” Benoit face changed instantly into a look of anger. “Lucas!” He yelled making the group jump, a man ran in. “Yes My-.” He was cut of by Benoit. “Find, d’Artangan bring him here. He should be riding.” Lucas nodded and vanished from the room hurriedly. Athos frowned, what had he said to elicit that anger. He didn’t ask though, he was going to see his d’Artangan again after three years. Aramis and Porthos clapped him on the back also smiling broadly. 

They didn’t have to wait long before loud almost thundering footsteps came down the corridor bouncing of the walls. Benoit stood and moved to stand before the musketeers, he would be the first person that d’Artangan saw. Athos, Aramis and Porthos also stood waiting to see their boy again. The door burst open and a figure came storming in yelling. “What could you possible want this early in the morning. I asked only one thing from you and that was my morning ride, nothing else. So what could you need. WHAT?!” Athos took a step back in shock, this was not what they expected to see. He had always seen the situation he was in now as a manual labour worker, baked skin and calloused hands and worn face and shorn hair. What stood before him was a pampered and well fed young man. d’Artangan had gained another few inches and had lost the bony young round edges of his figure. Dressed in tight breeches cream cambric riding shirt with belled sleeves covered with a deep brown leather riding corset and knee high leather boots, in a gloved hand he bore a riding crop the he brandished like a sword. Athos inspected his face and saw clean angles surrounded by the loose strands of long black hair that was tied back from luminous eyes. Benoit strode to him and caught him tightly by the arm. “Have you been in contact with these musketeers? Have you!?” He hissed and tugged at d’Artangans arms roughly forcing him to look at the three of them. 

d’Artangans mind fought between he righteous anger and the shock at seeing his lost loves. Finally anger won out and rounded on his patron. “How could I. I haven’t left this gilded prison you so kindly locked me in. I don’t send letters because you don’t let me meet anyone and you have me accompanied where ever I go. So I ask again how could I. I haven’t had contact with musketeers in three years” The last part sounded said he raised a hand and tugged himself free of Benoit who’s demeanour suddenly changed he gently brushed d’Artangans hair away from his neck and kissed him gently pulling him into an embrace and letting one hand rest on the corseted stomach. “No your right, how could I think that of you my special one. I only try and keep you safe.” Athos felt a hand grip around his own wrist as Porthos held him back shaking his head. Benoit let d’Artangan go and turned him to the door. “Go to our rooms and wait I will be up later.” He tugged on one of the cords at the back of the corset loosening it. d’Artangan left the room not looking at anyone.

Benoit turned back to the group “Do excuse me. I must have words with my ward. We will be ready to leave by midday” He turned away again and followed d’Artangan from the room. Once the door shut, Athos wrenched his arm from Porthos grip and rounded on them. “Why stop me, I was going to kill him.” He hissed darkly fingering the hilt of his blade. Aramis collapsed into the chair behind him. “Athos, look at him. We caused that scene by being here. We need more information. He has a nobles education, the money the protection.” Porthos agreed with Aramis but he had some reservations. “But did you see the look on his face when Benoit touched him. What is the cost of this life he leads. He called it a gilded prison. He looks now more like a kept boy than a ward.” Aramis could see where they were coming from and felt the same anger that Athos must feel rise in his own chest. “We will find out the story and rescue him if he needs it.”

Athos anger continued to simmer under the surface of his skin. He would find out and god help the man that touched d’Artangan when he didn’t want it.


End file.
